The Day the Hatter Met the Candyman
by Binks95
Summary: Request from a dear friend of mine. Willy Wonka thought he'd seen everything until he finds himself in Wonderland at the Mad Hatter's tea party. Crazy antics ensue, and Mr Wonka finds the Hatter to be a little overly-friendly.


Willy Wonka thought that he'd seen everything. And that meant _everything_. After all, how many other people could say they had an entire edible jungle? Or drinks that could lift people higher and higher into the air?

In his lifetime, many people had called Mr Willy Wonka 'mad'. But he would simply lift his hat, give them a bow and a smile and tell them they were mistaking genius for madness and that they should never get it the wrong way around or the mad people could end up running the country while the geniuses were in strait jackets and padded rooms.

But now, as he sat across from someone who definitely belonged in one of those padded rooms, he couldn't help but question that notion that he had, indeed, seen everything.

The man known affectionately as 'Mad Hatter' was sat cross-legged on the far end of the table. There was something of an awkward silence in the air, yet the Hatter sat with an inane grin on his face that didn't falter even when he took a sip from his tea cup.

Mr Wonka looked down at his own chipped cup and picked it up by the handle with his thumb and index finger. He carefully examined the odd, murky contents of the cup and decided to go with his better judgement and leave it be.

"Mr... Wanda, was it?"

Mr Wonka looked up at the man staring at him with piercing, oddly coloured eyes. "It's Wonka, actually, Mr Hatter."

The Hatter waved his cup, tea sloshing over the sides. "No need for formalities, Mr Wanda," he said. "Just call me... call me..."

"Brian!" called a jittery hare from the left side of the table.

"No, Harry!" came a tiny voice of a dormouse sat on a doily. "Harry's a far better name!"

"I'm sure Mr Hatter has a real name," said Mr Wonka. "You can't just suggest names."

"Joshua!" cried the Hatter suddenly. "Call me David!"

Mr Wonka furrowed his brow at him. "If you say so, David."

"Who's David?" asked the Hatter, a genuine expression of confusion etched on his face. Mr Wonka went to say something but then decided it was best not to encourage the man.

"If I may say so, Mr Wink," said the Hatter suddenly. "I do rather like that hat you've got there."

"Oh this?" Mr Wonka took the hat from his head and held it firmly between his hands. "Why thank you."

"May I try it on?"

Mr Wonka looked at the Hatter. "Well, I'd rather-"

But he was cut off by the hat being suddenly snatched from his grip by the jittery hare. The hare's grasp on it faltered almost instantly, however, and the hat went flying across the table. The tiny mouse made ready to catch it but it was plucked from the air by the Hatter who'd gotten up and walked along the table to catch it.

"Now hang on just a moment!" cried Mr Wonka.

The Hatter ignored him and placed Mr Wonka's hat on top of his own.

"My goodness!" he cried, admiring his reflection in a spoon. "It must be a magic hat! The whole world has been turned upside down!"

The mouse and the hare both scrambled over the get a look at the spoon.

"Why, it is a magic hat!" cried the mouse.

"I-i-i-it's spectacular!" the hare concurred.

Mr Wonka sighed. The Hatter looked over at him and took the second hat off, throwing it like a Frisbee at Mr Wonka who caught it in surprise. He examined the hat thoroughly before placing it back on his head.

The Hatter hopped down from the table and started to walk toward Mr Wonka's seat.

"Just before you graciously arrived," he started. "We were discussing things that begin with the letter M."

"Malice!" squeaked the mouse.

"M-m-m-m-murder!" the hare stammered.

"Massacre," said the Hatter, his hands on the back of Mr Wonka's chair.

"To name a few..." Mr Wonka murmured, wary of the man stood uncomfortably close behind him.

"Your turn!" said the Hatter, patting Mr Wonka's shoulder.

"Marriage," said Mr Wonka, confidently.

"Oh, don't say that..." said the Hatter, fiddling with Mr Wonka's collar. "You'll give me ideas..."

Mr Wonka furrowed his brow and went to question the statement but was interrupted by the sudden cry of,

"Melancholy!" from the mouse.

"M-mange!" piped up the hare.

"Masochist," said the Hatter.

Mr Wonka looked around at the faces staring at him. "...Magician," he said, his earlier confidence somewhat dwindled.

"Mutt!" shouted the mouse.

"M-m-m-misfortune!" the hare stuttered.

Mr Wonka's chair was pulled backward so that he were at a right angle to the floor. He caught a brief glimpse of the Hatter's face before coarse lips were pressed against his own. His eyes widened in shock, yet he couldn't find the energy to protest or even struggle.

After a few seconds, the Hatter withdrew and said, "Mouth..."

"My goodness..." Mr Wonka breathed.

"That's two words!" cried the mouse. "And the second one began with G! You lose!"

"You l-l-l-lose!" the hare pointed an accusatory finger at Mr Wonka as his chair was put back in its original position. It amazed him how the other party guests were completely unperturbed by what had happened. His fingertips brushed his lips as the kiss still lingered on them. He looked around at the Hatter whose hands still held the back of his chair firmly, yet he seemed to be staring at something in the distance with a smile etched across his face.

"Could we perhaps play a different game...?" asked Mr Wonka, his voice quieter than usual.

"Of course!" chimed the Hatter. He let go of Mr Wonka's chair and stepped onto the table. The Hatter then crouched so he was eye level with him, his face now expressionless.

"Mr Winter," he started. "Do you know why a raven is like a writing desk?"

Mr Wonka went silent, staring intently at the Hatter's lips. He could feel himself leaning forward against his will and before he knew it, their mouths were once again locked together. Without parting, Mr Wonka crawled forward, pinning the Hatter against the table, their fingers entwining. The Hatter just seemed to go along with it, his lips happily accepting Mr Wonka's own.

After a minute or so, Mr Wonka drew away, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth hanging open. He crawled off of the table, straightened his hat and the creases in his suit and stared at the Hatter that was still lying there with the biggest grin on his face. Mr Wonka smirked.

"It was lovely meeting you all," he addressed the table. "But I'm afraid I must be going. There is much more here for me to see and I'm afraid I may waste time if I stay here."

The Hatter sat up and took off his hat, holding it to his chest.

"It's a real shame to see you go, Mr Blotta," he said. "Do return soon. We'll always be waiting for you."

Mr Wonka smiled and bowed then turned and started on his way.

"Oh," he stopped suddenly and faced the three crazy party guests once more. "A raven is like a writing desk because Edgar Allen Poe wrote on both. Farewell."

As Mr Wonka walked away, the three looked amongst themselves, dumbfounded.

"Who's Edgar Allen Poe?" asked the mouse.


End file.
